


Unexpected

by TheTireFire



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-10
Updated: 2017-11-10
Packaged: 2019-01-31 13:46:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12683133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheTireFire/pseuds/TheTireFire
Summary: The Spirit of the Ring favors the aloof and the self-sufficient. Which is to say, he likes cats. Nothing graphic, nothing weird, just a nice little story about a cat and happiness before an end.





	Unexpected

**Author's Note:**

> Here is a warm up I wrote to get back into the swing of fanfic. It has been way too long since I have written anything and I get to have a fresh start on this website, so yay. Not that I have anything terrible in my past save for plain bad writing. Hope you all enjoy!
> 
> Heck I still feel the need to add a disclaimer: I don’t own Yu-Gi-Oh!  
> Never have.

If anything was unexpected, it was the spirit of the ring’s love of cats. That’s not to say that he worshipped them, his worship was only for darker things, but he had thought those in the past had the right idea about the feline creatures. Aloof, and majestic they were, even when they were dirty little strays like he had been so long ago.

To be fair, he preferred the strays, the feral cats who hissed and scuffled amongst themselves. They lived their lives in a world that could have not given less of a shit for them. Occasionally, he’d watch them roam, searching for food in the alleyways of the city. People walked by either oblivious, or purposeful in ignoring their plight. His lips curved into a smile as he watched. The cats did not need anyone’s help. They lived and died by-

A helpless mew caught his ear and harsh brown eyes glanced down. In the crevice of two boxes full of separated trash was a tattered blanket. The dirty red and blue blanket shifted ever so slightly, and another pitiful meow came from it. He cocked his head and lifted the blanket, only to drop it as claws as small as needles pierced his finger tips. 

“Little bastard,” the spirit said, although his voice was kinder than usual. He waited a moment, watching the kitten struggle from its dirty nest. It was a ball of gray and black stripes. It’s fur was unkempt, and it kicked at fleas that traversed it’s body. Noting the figure of a teen had not left its sight, it let out a tiny hiss. It was received with an amused expression. Once it realized his foe would not budge, the kitten sat squat on his haunches and meowed loudly. For food or water was anyone’s guess.

“Ah, not so tough now? What were you going to do to defeat me?” The spirit raised his hand and proceeded to scratch at the back of the kittens ears. The kitten meowed appreciatively and rolled into its back. Critters crawled across its stomach and were plucked off by deft hands, not that it would make much difference. It was a stray after all. As he wrangled with the kitten who had finally caught his hands in play, he noted it was a girl. 

“May you be even more spirited when running away from boy cats,” he said as he stood. He had nothing to give it. The kitten meowed at him in irritation, but when he moved away it did not chase, just huddled in its blanket, it’s golden eyes watching him, accusing.

A few days later, the spirit of the ring was back at that alleyway. It was so nice that his landlord had no one to hound him when he came home late, and that he never bothered to tell anyone he had lapses in memory. His plans could go entirely unnoticed. Yet, this plan was not of the dastardly sort. No, that would come after. In his coat pocket he had a packet of food. Specifically, of the kitten variety.

At first, there was nothing. The blanket was still there, although the trash had been taken away. It looked like it had been missed, as it was even more pinched between the boxes. He wondered if the kitten died, and shrugged to himself. If it had that was just the way of this cruel world. There was nothing to be done. Waiting for a few moments, he stood there, just to make sure there was nothing. No movement graced his gaze.

Still, he opened the packet. It had been meant for this kitten, and she would eat it even in spirit, he had no doubt. He placed it by the blanket, and nearly shrieked in surprise as a tiny gray flash darted out from what seemed like nowhere. The spirit caught himself before he did and let out a heaving breath to regulate his heart.

“Stupid thing,” he snapped, and proceeded to hold the food as the kitten chowed down. Once it was finished, she looked up at him for more, and realizing there was no more, she darted away into the darkness.

And so it went on like this for some time.

When he had free time, and he wasn’t letting his landlord have use of the body, the spirit would come and care for the kitten. He did not know why he chose this one, and it always dashed away from him after eating, but he did. Once he was able to snatch it and give it some sort of a wash. Wipes purchased for this particular line of work put an obvious dent into their finances, as did the flea medication. Again, he could not explain this fruitless venture, just that this particular kitten made him smile.

Nearly a year passed on with him caring for a stray that remained a stray regardless of his actions. He never took her home, as that would have been hard to explain or keep secret. He had considered it though, but there was no point. If he took her home and they never returned, as Battle City has shown him was a slight possibility, no doubt she would starve and then die. No, her life as a stray was better.

One day, just before the events of Memory World would transpire, of which the end results were not even feasible to his mind, the spirit came to the kitten who was truly no longer much of one in appearance. He provided her scratches, fluffed up a new dark gray blanket (hidden in a new corner as the other had finally been unceremoniously tossed while he had not been there), and watched as she ate voraciously from his hand. He even tended to a rather nasty scratch from a possible brawl she had had with another cat. His unknowing parting gift to his favored animal at the time.

If anyone had treated him with such kindness in the past, had fed and cared for the small child who had lost everything, would he have still been the vengeful spirit he was today? Would he still have been doomed to a fate tied to a demon god, forever destined to fail? None of these thoughts occurred to him as he fulfilled this aforementioned duty to an abandoned animal, but if they had he would have denied it all.

He just liked cats.

This cat, in particular, also liked him. As he began to leave, she pawed at the cuff of his jeans, and the spirit of the ring looked down bemused. A loud meow pervaded the cat’s body, and he chuckled, giving it one final pat. “Don’t be like this,” he said, knowing full well conversations with cats led nowhere, “you’re doing fine on your own. Now get going and do what you always do.”

The cat stared at him with her unblinking golden eyes before she darted away. He shoved his hands in his pockets and figured that none of it mattered anyway, as all would be over soon.

A month passed where the cat did not see the spirit of the ring. The spirit had been right in saying she would be fine on her own, as being well fed in comparison to the other strays left her bigger and more frightening a fighter. Yet, the cat did go to the alley they first met at from time to time, waiting for food, and to be pet by a hand far kinder than it let on. There was never anyone there, except for those who walked by her in a hurry, unaware of the hidden animal in wait.

Another month passed before a white haired teen came down the alley, his hands in his pockets. Brown eyes viewed the alley, but were unseeing as he was lost in thought. He stopped by the dirtied gray blanket and knelt down, shaken from his daydream as he recognized, however dim the recollection was, the blanket. The cat saw all of this, and darted out of her hiding place. She meowed loudly for food.

“Oh, is this yours?” Bakura asked, his voice softer than the spirit’s had been. The cat did not seem to care, as she rubbed up against him, meowing for food and to be pet. Bakura chose the latter. 

“Are you a stray, kitty?” He asked, a smile creeping across his lips. “You’re doing well for yourself, aren’t you?” The cat flopped into his lap and he laughed.

“You’re so friendly,” he said, continuing to pet the cat. “You must have so many friends, I wonder who...”

As he pet the cat he felt a sudden shudder of loneliness. Something he still could not quite express to his friends, because he did not know how. The home he went to was now twice as empty, and even still...

“Let’s get you to a vet. See if you don’t have an owner or something,” Bakura offered, gently picking up the cat. She purred in his arms. ‘If you don’t,’ he thought to himself, ‘then I’m taking you home with me.’ 

Yes, his home would be brightened by having such a loving creature in it. “And I’ll have to name you, too,” he added aloud.

Somehow, he had found an unexpected gift.


End file.
